the watcher of the eternal flame
by Huinari
Summary: I'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams. - Or, Kyubey cannot talk to Rika. Hanyu won't let it.


_Sometimes the only pay-off for having any faith_  
 _Is when it's tested again and again everyday._  
 _I'm still comparing your past to my future._  
 _It might be your wound but they're my sutures._

 _Immortals, Fall Out Boy_

 _'Will you make a contract with me?'_

Rika ignores the cat-like creature with white fur and pink eyes. The thing with long ears is albino, and there is something in its eyes – the colour of blood in the water – that hold absolutely no empathy.

Objectively, it might be cute. Its appearance might appeal to a person, triggering some sort of protective instinct and make it more likely to be liked.

Hanyu, however, senses what this thing – this abomination that cannot feel, this disgusting creature who holds no emotions – is after, and she will be damned to an existence worse than her current state before she lets it get what it wants.

The cat-creature, after yet another failed attempt, does not slump or sigh in frustration, but she suspects it is because this invasive parasite cannot feel such emotions. Instead, it coolly assesses Rika, who is preparing for bed unaware of its presence, before turning to her.

 _'May I ask why you are blocking my attempts to speak to her?'_ it asks in its odd telepathy.

Hanyu glares. This alien is after Rika, and she will not let it have her. "Because," she replies, and she is not Hanyu the old spirit who speaks to Rika and lets out sounds of 'au-au' when distressed or flustered. She is Oyashiro, she is the god of the small village, she is a force beyond simple mortal comprehension with powers that humans dream of and fear.

This alien is, in the grand scheme of things, nothing but a small speck compared to what she is and can do. "You plan on using her for your benefit. You will not touch her."

The thing flicks its long ears. _'This is not just for my benefit,'_ it speaks plainly, and the bluntness might be appreciated if the lack of emotion doesn't grate her nerves. _'Surely you are aware of the loss of energy in this universe.'_

Of course she's aware – she's been tapping into the powers for so many times, channeling the force to turn the time back in the desperate hopes of saving Rika from being murdered again and again in all the different timelines. She is the manifestation of the forces in this world, and she herself is all-too aware of just how faded she has become over the centuries.

 _'By making a contract with her alone, I could harvest enough energy to last the entire universe for a millennium, easily,'_ it speaks. _'Maybe even more. I've never seen such a girl with so much fate attached to her before.'_

Fate. Hanyu knows this is her fault, for rewinding time again and again in the hopes of saving Rika. Rika herself is aware of the hundreds of years she has relived in that brief summer, of how every single time, her death leads to mass chaos and death. How each and every world, invariably, relies on her.

And Hanyu will always turn the clock back and create the hundreds of different fragments if it means finally finding the miracle where Rika lives, even if it means that with each turn, more fate hangs onto Rika's frail shoulders.

This parasitic alien that leeches off those who can feel, however, is not that miracle, and Hanyu will not let it touch Rika. This is the one time when she may actually interfere with what goes on in the world other than waiting for the absolute worst scenario where her beloved girl is murdered, and her presence can protect Rika from this thing's attempts to communicate. The small drone holds no chance against a queen, after all.

"Be gone," she orders, annoyed at its attempt to take advantage of Rika. "You will never speak to her."

The alien tips its head, but gets onto its dainty paws and disappears, recognizing when to cut its losses. Hanyu will never let Rika know of this thing, not for as long as she exists.

Satoko goes off to use the bathroom one last time before bed, and Rika turns to look at her quizzically. "What's wrong?" the girl who has lived for hundreds of years, only to repeatedly die over and over again asks quietly.

Hanyu smiles back. "Nothing," she says. "Good night, Rika."

Rika's lips tug up, and for a moment she looks like a sweet, innocent child who has not seen death and destruction, pain and insanity countless times. "Good night."

She will protect her. No matter what, no matter how many times they have to repeat this summer when the cicadas cry.


End file.
